The Last Five Years

This morning I attended the Madison County Democratic Women’s annual membership brunch…which was the first political event I ever attended and what inevitably launched me into this new (to me) world and passion.

I knew nothing. I knew no one. The only thing I did know was that I was scared and hated the way things were going. So with the sage advice and encouragement of my grandmother to “do something about it,” I faced my biggest millennial fear and showed up to an event alone, not quite sure what I was even looking for.

I am forever grateful for the incredible women who took in this political novice, made space for me, mentored me, and gave me so many opportunities to stretch and grow and contribute and shine. And the rest, as they say, is history…

So if I can encourage anyone else out there, if you want to get involved but you don’t know how or where to start, let me give you an simple breakdown:

Show up.

Say yes.

Soak it all in.

Showing up and saying “yes” at this one little event put me on a path I could’ve never imagined for myself—a path that has given me amazing friendships, invaluable experience, and even a business of my own.

Everyone’s journey is different, but they all start with the same first step: SHOW. UP. You’ll figure out the rest as you go—I know I still am. And who knows…maybe one day you, too, will be able to look back on the last five years and amaze yourself at how far you’ve come…and excite yourself at what the future holds…

Maybe Next Year...

As I sit here taking in this beautiful, cool spring Sunday morning (which is a true anomaly here in mid-May Alabama), it seems almost offensive to be anything but joyous and at peace—and yet, here I am...crying into my coffee...where not even the warmth of the sun nor the coolness of the breeze are enough to dry my tears. Grief is strange in that way.

And even though I had anticipated these hard feelings today, it still doesn't ease the pain of what feels like a whole day dedicated to reminding me of something I am so desperately longing for and fear will never come. A social media feed full of sweet messages and pictures that makes me smile while simultaneously breaking my heart. And logically I know that this day is not a personal attack or some crazy conspiracy to get me down, but again...grief is strange in that way.

But I am also incredibly grateful for the many amazing women I have in my life who also happen to be phenomenal mothers and have taught and inspired me more than they'll probably ever know and who deserve to be celebrated today (and let's be honest, EVERY day). And of course, the pièce de résistance of motherhood (IMO), my mother, who truly should have a holiday dedicated to her alone. I cannot emphasize enough how impactful the women in my life have been on the woman I have become (and am still becoming) and the mother I hope to become someday. I love them...I respect them...I envy them. Grief is strange in that way.

Through this journey of infertility, I am learning every day just how complex we are as humans in our emotional capacities. Sadness and happiness can coexist. Joy and sorrow can coexist. Gratitude and jealousy can coexist. They can coexist because they must coexist. We have to allow ourselves permission and the space to process all of these feelings without guilt or shame, knowing that there is no wrong way to feel and no one emotion that defines us or a particular moment in our lives.

So as I take this gorgeous spring morning to process my feelings and sit in my sadness, I know that these feelings are not permanent and do not define me or this day...because tonight I will be genuinely and happily celebrating my sweet mama. I recognize that others also find today to be tough due to the loss of their own mothers or a strained relationship, and I don't ever want to take the time or the relationship that I have with her for granted.

If you are a mama, know that I am celebrating you.

If you have lost your mama/child or have a strained relationship, know that I am thinking of you.

If you, too, are struggling with infertility, know that I see you.

I don't know if I believe in speaking things into existence, but just in case: here's to celebrating Mother's Day 2022 as we had hoped we would be celebrating this year...as mothers.

The First, But Not the Last

“... Because every little girl watching tonight sees that this is a country of possibilities. And to the children of our country—regardless of your gender—our country has sent you a clear message: dream with ambition, lead with conviction, and see yourselves in a way that others may not simply because they've never seen it before, but know that we will applaud you every step of the way.”

— Kamala Harris

It has been a long four years, friends. I think anyone—regardless of which way you lean or how you cast your vote—would agree with at least that. The division, the drama, and the deliberate attacks on our democracy have shaken our country to its very core, which when added to the dumpster fire that was 2020, has simultaneously numbed us to the point where we don't even bat an eye when we see "cocaine hippos" scroll across our timelines. It has been a struggle for me (and I'm sure many others) to find and hold on to moments of significant joy in the seemingly never-ending chaos and calamity. But on this day—January 20, 2021, the 59th Inaugural Ceremony—something so monumental occurred that it transcends political party or partisan divides...we watched the first-ever woman (and first Black and South Asian American and daughter of an immigrant) inaugurated as Vice President of these United States.

It's true we've heard it said countless times by the media and political talking heads since November, but like many things this past year, the turmoil that was 2020 essentially sucked the life out of what would be (and should have been) a momentous occasion. Through the prolonged election results to the fraud-proclaiming conspiracies to the violent insurrection at the Capitol, we were never really given the time to fully soak in this incredible milestone. 230 years and 48 Vice Presidents later, we have finally been given the chance to say the words: "MADAM Vice President." And I know for myself that truly didn't hit me until I watched Kamala Devi Harris raise her right hand as she took her oath of office. I felt immense pride as though I knew her personally. I also felt tremendous sorrow—not only because it took this long for a woman to ascend to the second-highest office in the land, but also because neither I nor the rest of the country could celebrate it the way in which it so rightfully deserved. But mostly...I felt significant, exuberant joy.

“...this is a collective win for womankind.”

Joy in witnessing history being made. Joy in embracing a new day and a turning point in our country. Joy in celebrating a woman stepping into her power, and thereby empowering all women and girls to step into their own power. Joy in knowing that if I'm fortunate enough to have children, they will never know a world where a woman cannot serve as Vice President of the United States. Joy in never again being able to say, “A woman can’t…” because she did. Because WE did. From the sacrifices of the women who came before her to the women whose shoulders she stands upon and who paved the way to the White House to the women (especially WOC) who fought and advocated and voted for us to finally arrive at this moment with our own custom-made seat at the head of the table...this is a collective win for womankind.

Like many things in this country, we have come a long way but still have such a long way to go. I am not foolish enough to believe that one candidate or one administration or one historic moment can mend all the things our country needs to repair, and I am committing myself—as I hope you will too—to continuing to do the necessary work and hold this administration accountable. But I also hope that you will join me in taking a moment to fully experience the joy in her becoming the first, but more so the joy in knowing that she will most certainly not be the last.

America, We Need to Talk

“Talking to each other instead of talking about each other is not some kind of nicey-nice idea. It's the difference between societies falling apart and societies getting something wonderful done.”

— Elizabeth Lesser

Like many of you, I am still processing the events of Wednesday, January 6th…a day that will no doubt live in infamy. I find myself struggling to string together the words to perfectly describe what I (what we) witnessed and what I feel. I am enraged…I am mortified…I am heartbroken…I am shocked…but I cannot say that I am surprised. This was not an accident. This was not random. This was a culmination of years of rhetoric and complicity. This has further compounded the collective trauma that was the-year-we-shall-not-speak-of and shined a spotlight on the deep divides that exist in our country.

“We have the ability to make ourselves incredibly accessible to billions of people, but that accessibility appears to begin and end at our keyboards.”

But I don't want to talk about the event itself—anyone who knows anything about me knows where I stand. Instead, I want to talk about how we get through this—because we will get through this. Emotions are high right now and we find ourselves at yet another fork in the road in terms of the direction of our country. I certainly do not claim to have all of the answers, but after many conversations and some time to reflect on this exact question that has been posed to me several times over the past few days, my answer is this: we have to start having the hard conversations.

We find ourselves in an age where you can send a message around the world with just one click of a mouse…or share a photo of your brunch to all of your friends in a matter of seconds…or fight with complete strangers about sports or politics on various platforms. We have the ability to make ourselves incredibly accessible to billions of people, but that accessibility appears to begin and end at our keyboards. As a Millennial (and as a solid Enneagram 9), I have always struggled with confrontation, giving my (true and full) opinion, and frankly having hard conversations. And as a “Southern young lady” it was ingrained in me from a young age that it was impolite to discuss things such as money, politics, and sex openly. When difficult situations would arise, the “flight” in my “fight or flight” would immediately kick in, causing me to become defensive, to deflect, or to shut down altogether. And I believe that experience to be true for many others as well. Then the internet appeared, and we found that pendulum swinging so far in the opposite direction—digitally shouting down those who would disagree with us at every opportunity and seeking refuge in our respective echo chambers. And as therapeutic as owning a Twitter troll can be at times, that isn’t how we make progress.

“We have to be willing to not only make our voices, opinions, and stances heard but also to allow the same for others.”

Like most things when it comes to making progress, it starts with us. Again, for us Millennials especially, it’s easy to watch an event like the insurrection at the Capitol unfold and be affected by it but still experience a huge disconnect. The tragedy of 9/11 occurred during our most formative years, and I still vividly remember watching the towers burn with fear and pain and confusion in my heart and yet…I never felt a seismic shift in my life because of it. As adults now we obviously have a much better understanding of the world, but I think we are still lacking one very important piece of the puzzle: principled responsibility.

So what does that look like? We have to first understand that whether we feel the direct effects of an event or not, they still affect us in some way, shape, or form. We then have to claim our responsibility as an active participant in society and share some accountability in the successes and the shortcomings that come with that. And finally…we have to start having the hard conversations—with family, with friends, with colleagues—in the form of civil discourse. We have to be willing to not only make our voices, opinions, and stances heard but also to allow the same for others. In my most recent interview with WVNN radio, I made the point that it is absolutely okay (and healthy!) to disagree with someone—completely and fervently—but we must not lose our empathy. That doesn’t mean not holding people accountable for their actions and that does not mean allowing people who have proven themselves to be toxic and harmful to stay in your life, but we have to make the effort. We have to try.

And although my show Alabama Politics This Week has certainly gone a long way to push me to express myself more openly and has forced me to discuss tough topics and have these hard conversations with those who may not agree with me some (or most) of the time, I am absolutely still a work in progress. But if the-year-we-shall-not-speak-of has taught us anything, it’s that we can do hard things. We must do hard things. Because I believe that until we start recognizing the humanity in each other and begin talking to each other in the form of civil discourse with the true intention of seeking understanding and common ground, what we are experiencing now—which is not normal—will almost certainly become so.

So consider this a challenge: start by discussing last week's attack with someone in your inner circle such as a close friend or a family member you trust and know will be willing to engage with you. Make sure to listen to them, even if they may not agree with your views—especially if they don't agree with your views—and then share yours. We all have different life experiences that have shaped us into who we are, whether it be because of our gender, race, affiliation, generation, family dynamic, religion, or culture, and we have so much to learn from each other because of that. I cannot guarantee that any agreements will be made or that every conversation will be fruitful or that it will even solve all/any of our problems, but I do believe that having these conversations—however hard they may be—will only serve to better us as people, as a society, and—hopefully—as a country.

All I Wanted for Christmas Was You

Since the dawn of its creation, music has always had an incredible way of evoking our deepest emotions. As someone who is an extreme empath and an owner of #allthefeelings, I have always found empowerment, connection, and solace in music. When I was younger and my level of angst was unable to be expressed through my own limited vocabulary, I turned to the songs of the emo-est of bands (picture teenaged Lisa scream-singing MCR and Yellowcard whilst scribbling madly in her diary—bless her). When I went through a horrific breakup, I sought refuge in the melancholy lyrics of the sappiest singer-songwriters (shout-out to Jack Johnson and T-Swift). And when I need a serious mood boost (or a dance party of one), I immediately crank up the show tunes or some '90s-'00s hip hop (if you've seen my curated playlists, you get it).

But have you ever had a moment in your life—a new milestone, a big move, a messy breakup—that caused a song that you had heard a thousand times before and mindlessly sang along to all of a sudden truly resonate or take on a whole new meaning?

A few days ago I was on my way to the gym and in an effort to get myself pumped up and excited about working out at 6:30 AM (which is truly a monumental effort) I queued up my favorite Christmas playlist. Because I love all things Christmas and am no fool, “All I Want for Christmas is You” was the first song up. I was singing and bee-bopping along per usual until I was about a minute in and then something shifted. I started honing in on the words, unintentionally at first, and it was like I was suddenly hearing them for the first time. And then I felt that all too familiar feeling...a meltdown was coming. And boy did it. I finally parked the car and sat there in the gym parking lot, letting the feeling wash over me like a catastrophic tidal wave.

“Every month I have quietly prayed and hoped that this month would be the month it would all change...and every month I have silently wept and cursed when it was made clear that it wouldn’t.”

I’m sure by this point you’re probably thinking, “How could (arguably) the greatest Christmas song ever sung by one of the most iconic voices of our generation cause you to lose it like that?” And that's a completely valid question. I know the intended meaning of the song is wanting to be with the one you love for Christmas so desperately and not needing anything else but that. And on a very deep level—deeper than I even realized—that’s exactly what I was (well, am) feeling. But it’s not a significant other I’m longing for. The thing is...I have just begun my twelfth month of 2020 still not being pregnant.

By now most of you are aware of my experience last year, but I haven’t really spoken about it again until now. I honestly don’t like to, or frankly want to, talk about it—not because I’m ashamed or feel it shouldn’t be a topic that is openly discussed (it should!) but because it makes it that much more real for me. Before my miscarriage last year and even until recently when the subject of if we were ever having kids came up, I would say, “Ehh...if it happens, it happens” in the most nonchalant tone I could muster. That has been my chosen response because saying what I really feel hurts too much. In my mind admitting out loud that we have been trying (and trying...) and knowing that it isn’t happening makes each passing month feel like one giant failure after another. That my body is failing me. That I’m failing us. Every month I have quietly prayed and hoped that this month would be the month it would all change...and every month I have silently wept and cursed when it was made clear that it wouldn’t.

“In true Enneagram 9 fashion, I have always struggled with moving outside of my comfort zone and taking risks. Not for fear of judgment or of being vulnerable, but of failure.”

And until my therapy session this week (can I say, “Thank god for therapy!” enough?), I don’t think I realized just how important this is to me. I believe that a part of me has tried to convince myself that it doesn’t really matter if I ever have kids as some sort of a defense mechanism because admitting how desperately I want to be a mother would somehow make the pain and reality of it not happening that much deeper and truly unbearable. This has been a constant theme in my life—doing everything in my power to not get my hopes up over something for fear of the (in my mind, inevitable) let down. In true Enneagram 9 fashion, I have always struggled with moving outside of my comfort zone and taking risks. Not for fear of judgment or of being vulnerable, but of failure. And this just feels like an extension of that.

And here we find ourselves, at the end of what has undoubtedly been the most dumpster-fiery year in recorded history chock-full of immense tragedy and shared trauma. This holiday season will look and feel so different for almost all of us. I know for me that this time last year I was almost certain that we would be celebrating our best year yet and our first Christmas as a (human) family of three. But like most things in 2020 that, too, was tossed into the dumpster fire. And although seeing others getting to live out that experience—precious family holiday cards, cute kiddos unwrapping their gifts, festive pregnancy announcements—will undoubtedly cause a pang of envy in my heart, I also know that there is no shortage of love and joy in my life. I have the most phenomenal partner in my husband, an incredible support system in my friends and family, and (IMO) the world’s greatest therapist—and I am so ridiculously lucky. And grateful. Because I know there are so many others who are having to navigate a similar journey that may not have some or any of those same resources. But moreover, I am hopeful.

I hope if we have learned anything from this godforsaken year, it is the importance of human connectivity, the need for more empathy, and how truly resilient we are as people—individually and collectively. I hope this year has forced us to understand what’s really important in this life—not beautifully wrapped boxes under a tree but our relationships with those we love most. I hope that even though we are all going through shared and personal struggles, we can find a moment or two to appreciate what we do have—not just focus on what we didn’t get. I hope that for myself...and I hope it for you. So Happy End of 2020, friends! We may not have gotten all that we wanted, but we made it here. And that is truly a gift in and of itself.

The Breaking Point

“2020 has been my best and most favorite year yet!”

— No one, EVER

I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that 2020 has been an absolute dumpster fire for most of us—I know it certainly has been for me.

Even putting aside my own personal issues, it feels like each day is worse than the one before. It's like as soon as we catch our breath from one catastrophe, another one comes along and knocks the wind right back out of us. I think that's part of what has made this year so hard—the relentlessness of it all. We have far surpassed #thestruggleisreal and seem to have advanced to a level I'm now referring to as #SWEETBABYJESUSWHENWILLTHISNIGHTMAREEND. I've had several people over the past few months ask me, "How do you do it? How are you keeping it together?!" The truth is...I'm not. I've had bouts of anxiety-induced sleep paralysis. I've had days where I hardly moved from one spot. I've cried and cursed more this year than I have the past five years combined—and for anyone who knows me, you know that's saying something. Real talk: when I got the news of RBG's passing, I legitimately laid on my living room floor for three hours and sobbed. A tad dramatic? Sure. But that's because—unbeknownst to me—I was just about to arrive to this week's final destination...my breaking point.

As most of you know, I co-host a weekly show called Alabama Politics This Week. On the show, we obviously discuss topics involving politics and current events, which you can imagine in this god-forsaken year has been an absolute treat. Normally I'm able to keep it together through the hour'ish it takes to film the show. But yesterday...yesterday was the first day where the topics we discussed fully triggered my (already elevated) anxiety. Thinking and talking about the loss of RBG and Breonna Taylor and 200,000+ Americans dead from COVID and the pure chaos that will undoubtedly ensue in November and the wannabe-dictator megalomaniac in the White House just...honestly broke me. It was as if each thought was causing a small spark inside my brain and I could feel myself imploding right there in slow motion and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I had finally succumbed to the weight of everything that 2020 had thrown my way and just let is wash over me like a tidal wave. But also like a tidal wave, that initial sense of drowning was immediately followed by a sense of calm. And I realized that—just like you—I'm still here.

So whether you're angry, cynical, frustrated, somber, scared, or any combination of those things, that's okay. We are all in survival mode at this point and sometimes just getting through the day is a victory. So if you've made it through this day and you're reading this right now, please let me be the first to remind you that YOU ARE DOING A FUCKING GREAT JOB.

And if you need to, take break. Feel those feelings. Take care of yourself. But then come back. Because we have to keep pushing forward. We have to keep fighting the good fight. There's too much at stake to give up now.

I always want to be honest and transparent here. Most days are tough, and nine times out of ten I'm driving the Hot Mess Express. So I promise you are not alone in your feelings, whatever they may be. It's crazy out there, and we still have three more months of this shitshow of a year. But we will make it through. So far we've survived 100% of our worst days...and I like those odds.

The Story of Tonight

“I may not live to see our glory, But I will gladly join the fight, And when our children tell our story, They'll tell the story of tonight...”

— Hamilton: An American Musical

If I have learned anything in my fairly short amount of time in the political sphere it's that it's hard. Whether you're the candidate, a staffer, or a volunteer, it is hard work—grueling at times and mostly thankless. And although I don't have much to compare it to, I think I can safely say that being a Progressive in the deep red South just might be the most challenging. We have long been written off, mocked, and/or ignored. We have been told there's no use in trying because the odds are stacked too high against us. And on the face of it, I can understand that argument. But if I may be frank...I call bull shit on that.

Have there been times where it has felt hopeless? Sure. More days than I can count. In Alabama during the 2018 election cycle, we ran many incredible candidates up and down the ballot—locally and statewide—that didn't win. I personally was fully invested in Amy Wasyluka's State Senate District 2 campaign as her Campaign Manager/Comms Director. We had the right candidate. We had the right platform. We had a great team. We had a genuine passion for what we were fighting for. We worked our asses off. And yet...we were still beaten by a 70-something flip-flopper with name recognition, tons of PAC money, little-no effort or platform, and a shiny new R next to his name. It's never fun to lose, but it hurts even more when you know you put in the work, were on the right side of the issues, and had the most qualified candidate for the job. (Also, if you're wondering if I will die salty about this...you bet your sweet bippy I will) As I said before, politics is hard and not for the faint of heart...especially if you're a Democrat in Alabama.

BUT...on the flip side of that, being a Democrat in Alabama inherently makes you special. Not only are you someone who adheres to Progressive values, but you are also someone who is willing to fight that good fight, again and again, even when it seems impossible because if not us, then who? And if not now, then when? We have to start somewhere. We have to be the catalysts for change to not only create a better future for our families and communities now but also to inspire and pass the torch to a new generation of Progressives and activists in our communities.

“Raise a glass to freedom, Something they can never take away, No matter what they tell you, Raise a glass to the four of us, Tomorrow there’ll be more of us, Telling the story of tonight...”

— Hamilton: An American Musical

So on that note, I want to acknowledge the many people I know who have put themselves out there to run for office in order to bring positive change to their communities, and I want to give even greater acknowledgment to the unsung heroes of these campaigns—staff and volunteers—who put in a tremendous amount of time and energy for little to no compensation. But we don’t do it for the money…we do it because our families and neighbors and communities are worth fighting for, to make them the best they can possibly be. We do it because sometimes the hard thing and the right thing are the same.

So win, lose, or draw, know that the work you’ve done—and hopefully continue to do—matters. Through your campaigns you have engaged those who had been disengaged, you have given hope back to those who had lost it, you have represented those who had felt underrepresented or unheard, and you have brought issues to light that had been ignored for far too long. THAT. MATTERS.

For those who have won their races, CONGRATS! I know you will represent us well!

For those who have advanced to a runoff or whose election is upcoming, KEEP PUSHING!

For those who may have fallen a little short, I hope you will give yourself due credit, allow yourself grace, and—after you’ve gotten a few decent nights of sleep—continue the work.

Because although it is not easy, it IS necessary…and so incredibly worth it. Every time we put ourselves out there, we move the needle...we chip away a little more...we add a few new cracks to the glass ceiling. Remember: victory isn't always measured by an out-right win, so take heart in knowing that you have made a difference. And I for one am proud of you and look forward to continuing the fight alongside you. So until then, let’s have another round tonight...

The Audacity of Misogyny

“I ask no favor for my sex; all I ask of our brethren is that they take their feet off our necks.”

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg

There have been several stories in the news lately with headlines spanning from women being told they're "too ambitious" to run for office, having derogatory comments made about their bodies, and being publicly accosted and called profane names by their male peers. It was even the main topic of discussion on our most recent episode of Alabama Politics This Week. But any woman existing in the world today will tell you this is nothing new. I certainly cannot tell you the number of times I have personally been name-called, objectified, belittled, or dismissed by men throughout my life.

And it starts early with the objectifying (and creepy) Little Miss beauty pageants and constantly hearing, "You (fill in the blank) like a girl!" as an insult. Then we begin to upgrade to the, "She was asking for it" and "Don't be a slut but don't be a prude" misogynistic adages until we finally reach the peak of the patriarchy at income inequality, assumed gender roles, and—my personal favorite—"Women are too emotional/dramatic/crazy/overly-sensitive/weak/etc. to do X-Y-Z." If we aren't wearing a full face of makeup, we're criticized for our flaws...but when we post a selfie of us feeling ourselves, we're "shallow" and "vain". If we're smiling at you, we're "asking to be approached or engaged with"...but if we're not smiling, we have "resting bitch face" (or as I like to call it—A FACE). If we choose to not work, we're called "lazy" or "gold diggers'...but if we try to excel in our careers, we're called "overly ambitious" or just a classic "bitch". I could go on, but I think I've made my point here...

Chances are you have been affected by or observed these incidents at some point in your life. And in many conversations I've had with other women, it's not until we get deep into the discussion of our experiences that we even realize how many times we have been the victim of misogynistic behavior. And that right there may be the worst of it all—the fact that misogyny is so deeply ingrained into the fibers of our society that we often don't even recognize it for what it is at first glance.

Sometimes it is subtle and indirect—like an offhand comment or "joke". But subtlety does not negate the validity of the harm that is caused by this type of behavior. Sometimes it is brazen and straightforward—like an elected official making public derogatory statements regarding another elected official's body. And although I could speak (read: rant) on this subject for days, herein lies the bulk of my anger and frustration: the AUDACITY of misogyny.

“And that right there may be the worst of it all—the fact that misogyny is so deeply ingrained into the fibers of our society that we often don't even recognize it for what it is at first glance.”

There are a million examples I could use, but for the sake of the length of this post (and the fact that this dude is, unfortunately, my representative) I am going to discuss the incident involving AL State Board of Education District 8 Rep., Wayne Reynolds, and his public comments regarding Governor Kay Ivey. For those unfamiliar with the incident, I am referring to, during a recent press conference where Gov. Ivey was addressing the state in regards to the extension of the Safer at Home order, Mr. Reynolds made a comment on the Facebook live stream of that press conference stating, "She is gaining weight." When asked about this comment by a reporter from AL.com he doubled (tripled??) down on it by saying, "She looked heavy in that white suit, yes. I don’t know what she weighs, I don’t know how much she weighs, I just made an observation. It wasn’t derogatory, it was an observation. I’ve seen her wear other pantsuits that were more slimming on her. When she came out [for the announcement], that suit made her look heavy. There was a lady in pink that came out before her that looked quite slim."

*takes slow, meditative breath* There are so many levels to this statement that I have to break it down into bite-sized pieces... First and foremost, her body/appearance/weight (or that of any woman) is none of his or anyone else's business. Secondly, she (nor any other woman) does not owe it to him or anyone else to appear "slim" or whatever he believes to be a "more favorable" appearance. His comments also insinuate that there is something inherently wrong with being heavier or gaining weight (which is problematic at best in and of itself, but I will have to save that rant for another time). Additionally, he appears to objectify another woman albeit with a less negative connotation, but I must reiterate that does not negate the validity of the harm that is caused by this type of behavior.

But the crux of the matter is how publicly and nonchalantly he made these comments—how emboldened and entitled he felt to do so—and towards the Governor of our state and an elected official of his own party for that matter. That can only leave one to speculate how he interacts with and speaks about women in his day to day life. But again, neither he nor this occurrence is a rarity. We know these incidents too well and too often because too many men just like him have engaged in this type of behavior without impunity for far too long. And the offense is often compounded by weak-ass apologies and/or the use of their relationships with women in their lives as some kind of Captain America-style Sexism Shield (i.e. "I have a wife/daughter/mother/sister/aunt/etc. that I love and respect so much."). Let me be abundantly clear: If you only respect women with whom you have a relationship or find attractive, or if that respect is based on a woman's relationship to other men (i.e. "She's someone's wife/daughter/mother/sister/aunt/etc."), YOU. DO. NOT. RESPECT. WOMEN. So please miss me with any and ALL of that.

“Sometimes it is subtle and indirect—like an offhand comment or "joke". But subtlety does not negate the validity of the harm that is caused by this type of behavior.”

Are there times when the offender is genuinely unaware that their behavior or comments are inherently sexist or misogynistic? Sure. But that doesn't make it any less problematic or wrong. And that is why it is imperative that we call out this behavior when we experience it or observe it. The greater call to action though is for men to start taking accountability and viewing their behaviors and the effects thereof through a different lens. To the men—I challenge you to be more critical in terms of how you speak to and about women... Is it relative to the topic at hand? Could it be perceived as harmful or sexist? Would you say/do it to a male peer? To continue to disregard and excuse this type of behavior or chalk it up to "just a silly/dumb comment" and not call it out for what it is—MISOGYNY—is to be complicit in and perpetuate the behavior.

But as upsetting and infuriating as this issue is, these stories are also showing us that this behavior is becoming tolerated less and less. And although I cannot speak on behalf of an entire generation of women, may I be so audacious to say that misogynists and those who worship at the altar of the patriarchy have officially been put on notice. Of course I don't mean that to be derogatory...just an observation.

To All the Dems I Loved Before

“If by a ‘Liberal’ they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people-their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights and their civil liberties-someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a ‘Liberal’, then I'm proud to say I'm a ‘Liberal’.”

— John F. Kennedy

Well...we somehow managed to make it to 2020. We have survived 29+ (serious?) declared Dem presidential candidates, 12 (interesting?) debates, and a whooole lotta social media posts (rants?) re: who our best bet is to win back the White House in November. And now Super Tuesday is upon us...

For some, determining who their #1 candidate is has been a journey. For others, they've been ride-or-dies since day one. Some have flip-flopped...some have made complete 180's...and (shockingly) some are still undecided. And though many see this as a problem—the fact that there's not one candidate that everyone wants to back—I get it. We all know that there is no such thing as a perfect candidate, but all of the candidates who have entered this race bring something different and meaningful to the table.

So to honor that (and to have a little fun), I thought I would create my own 2019-2020 Democratic Presidential Yearbook Superlative List:

• MOST LIKELY TO STAND UP TO THE NRA / MOST LIKELY TO PLAY THE ROLE OF PRESIDENT ON CBS' NEWEST PRIME TIME DRAMA: Rep. Eric Swalwell

• MOST GOOD VIBES / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE YOU GO "HUH?": Marianne Williamson

• MOST LIKELY TO STICK IT TO TED CRUZ / TINIEST MOUTH: Sen. Michael Bennet

• MOST BIPARTISAN / MOST SWOLE: Rep. John Delaney

• TALLEST / MOST LIKELY TO DEMONSTRATE HOW NOT TO EAT NY STYLE PIZZA: Mayor Bill de Blasio

• BEST CLIMATE CHANGE ADVOCATE / MOST LIKELY TO BE CAST AS CAPTAIN PLANET IN THE TV SHOW REBOOT: Gov. Jay Inslee

• MOST LIKELY TO WANT TO GRAB A BEER WITH / MOST UNFORTUNATE NAME: Gov. John Hickenlooper

• BEST LABOR & UNION SUPPORTER / MOST FORGETTABLE: Rep. Tim Ryan

• MOST LIKELY TO BRING U.S. TROOPS HOME / MOST LIKELY TO BE THE INSPIRATION OF A FUTURE DISNEY VILLAIN: Rep. Tulsi Gabbard

• MOST IMPROVED POLICY STANCES / MOST LIKELY TO WIN AN ARM WRESTLING MATCH: Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand

• MOST LIKELY TO SUPPORT DREAMERS / MOST LIKELY TO PULL A "PARENT TRAP": Julián Castro

• ES MÁS PROBABLE QUE HABLE EN ESPAÑOL / BEST OLLIE: Rep. Beto O'Rourke

• BEST STYLE / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE A SUPREME COURT JUSTICE NOMINEE CRY: Sen. Kamala Harris

• MOST LIKABLE BILLIONAIRE / MOST LIKELY TO BACK THAT AZZ UP: Tom Steyer

• MOST PET-FRIENDLY / BEST DAD JOKES & SICK BURNS: Sen. Cory Booker

• BEST MATHLETE / MOST TECH SAVVY: Andrew Yang

• MOST HEALTH CONSCIOUS / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE ME SIGN AN NDA AFTER PUBLISHING THIS BLOG: Mayor Mike Bloomberg

• MOST LIKELY TO GET A BILL PASSED / BEST BANGS: Sen. Amy Klobuchar

• MOST (NON-POLITICALLY) ACCOMPLISHED / BEST ROBOT-DANCE MOVES: Mayor Pete Buttigieg

• BEST MODERATE / BEST SHOULDER MASSAGES: VP Joe Biden

• MOST CONSISTENT / BEST LARRY DAVID IMPRESSION: Sen. Bernie Sanders

• MOST LIKELY TO HAVE A PLAN FOR THAT / MOST LIKELY TO MAKE A BILLIONAIRE CRY: Sen. Elizabeth Warren

In all seriousness, these candidates have dedicated their lives, sacrificed quite a bit, and opened themselves up to relentless scrutiny during this race all in an attempt to do what they could to push this country forward and make it better for us—for all of us. And regardless of whether you're a fan or not, that at the very least is to be admired and respected. I don't yet know who our nominee will be, but I do know that those still left in the race (and those we have lost along the way) all have the ability to realign our moral compass, inject a necessary level of empathy back into our humanity, and help shape a better and brighter future for everyone from the least of these to the marginalized to the middle-American.

I encourage you to vote for who you feel best represents you and your issues. Don't let polls or concerns of "electability" dictate your decision—people are only unelectable if you don't vote for them. But I do hope that regardless of the outcome of this primary, you will join me and #VoteBlueNoMatterWho on November 3rd. Don't give into the division, and don't lose sight of what really matters. The job of these candidates is to present their best case for why they should lead this country, and our job is to make sure one of them secures that position—and our job starts tomorrow. So let's get to work...

Oh, and for what it's worth...if you reeaally want to know who is MOST LIKELY TO WIN MY VOTE ON SUPER TUESDAY: it is absolutely and most definitely Senator Elizabeth Warren.

Piercing the Echo Chamber

"The civil discourse we need will not come from watching our tongues. It will come from valuing our differences and the creative possibilities inherent in them."

— Parker J. Palmer

It's no secret that we are living in a politically polarizing and divisive time. Facebook friend lists are dwindling, more people are migrating to the silos (and news stations) that best fit their ideals, and those who aren't battling it out with others on the internet refuse to even broach the subject of politics. Our country has essentially drawn a line in the sand, crossed its arms, and said, "Not today (or ever), Satan." And I get it...because I'm guilty of all of that, too. After the 2016 election, I was rolling back my friends list like Walmart pricing on Black Friday. I've made the snarky comments online, I've avoided people in real life, and I sought sanctuary in my little blue bubbles.

And honestly, it was what I needed at the time. But just like anything in life, you have to make the choice—to stay dormant or to move forward. I was presented with this choice a month and a half ago when a friend of mine offered me up as a suggested guest on the show Guerrilla Politics. For those who aren't familiar, it's a local, weekly show hosted by Dale Jackson and Dr. Waymon Burke where they discuss all sides of local, statewide, and national political topics. I was terrified not only of the thought of being on television (hellooo anxiety), but also the idea of having to discuss—nay, debate—politics with someone who has strong opposing views (ahem, Dale) on said television. But with some encouragement from friends and family, I said yes. And...I survived. And not only did I survive, but I was then asked by Dale if I would be interested in trying out a guest spot on his daily morning radio show: The Dale Jackson Show.

Now I'm a firm believer in transparency, so I should have prefaced all of this by saying: I was not a huge fan of Dale's. I had never known him personally, but his on-air personality to me was—to put it kindly—off-putting. Before all of this, I had literally zero desire to listen to/watch his shows, much less meet the man. It was clear to me where he stood on most issues and who his main demographic was, and I could safely say I was not in that camp. But I thought if he was willing to have someone like me on his show, who was I to not afford him that same respect. So again, I said yes. And now I'm not only a weekly guest on The Dale Jackson Show (Wednesdays from 8-9 AM ;) ), but I had the opportunity to serve as Dale's guest co-host on this week's episode of Guerrilla Politics. Do we align perfectly on all things political? Not at all. But through doing the shows, I have found that we have way more commonalities and shared opinions than I ever would've imagined. We've had some interesting debates (#TeamDragQueens), but we've always remained respectful of one another. And he'll probably hate that I'm saying this (so don't tell him I said it), but...he's actually kind of a nice guy.

There's nothing wrong with finding "your people" and getting connected to issues and causes you to care deeply about, but try to maintain respect and empathy in your heart for those who may not fall into those same silos. I still believe it's perfectly acceptable to remove people from your life who you feel are toxic and/or don't add value to your life, but try to be mindful of whether you're purging people because they're truly toxic or just because they may not agree with you. And let's be real...I'm all for an occasional snarky comment when appropriate, but try to make sure it's not hurting your overall cause. Because let's face it, it's easy to sit in a room (or a Facebook group) where all of your ideals and opinions are echoed back to you—that's where the community and organizing happens. But if you want to change hearts and minds—and moreover the narrative of what others may have written for you and your beliefs—then you have to step outside of your comfort zone and into the unknown. You may be surprised to find a different perspective, a deeper understanding, and a more positive outlook for the future of politics and humanity in America. I know that I certainly have.

"Fight for the things you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you."

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg

Identifying My Identity

“Identity cannot be found or fabricated but emerges from within when one has the courage to let go.”

— Doug Cooper

As humans, I believe that we all to some degree have an innate desire to be known for something—whether it's a job, a trademark look, or some kind of attribute that makes us unique. And today, in a world run by social media, that desire seems to be amplified with bloggers, influencers, and really anyone trying to find something, anything to help them stand out from the crowd. (I believe the kids are calling it their "brand"?) So when you find something that becomes "your thing", there is a strong sense to hold onto it, tightly...and perhaps for some, too tightly.

For me, it's my hair. Throughout the past 15'ish years, being known as "the girl with the long, red hair" has become "my brand". Friends, family, and (especially) strangers make comments often, which as someone who's #1 love language is "Words of Affirmation," it truly makes my little heart sing. But as silly as it may sound (and I'm sure that it does), what can be perceived as an attractive characteristic can start to become a serious point of insecurity.

Because when you start to become "known" for something, you slowly find yourself putting more and more stock into that thing, and little by little it begins to seep into your psyche and sense of being. It initiates in our subconscious until we find ourselves sitting in a salon chair literally staring it in the face and asking questions like, "What if others don't like it?" ... "What if I'm getting rid of the one thing that makes me special?" ... "What if I'm not 'me' anymore?" This is exactly where I found myself last week—in the midst of an identity crisis (and a mild-moderate anxiety attack).

These questions gave me pause, and I sat for a few moments trying to dig deep to understand why I was holding on to these inches of hair—something on the surface so frivolous and superficial, yet I felt tears welling up in my eyes at the mere thought of cutting them off. That's when the epiphany hit: You cannot confuse "identifiable" with "identity". "Identifiable" is how others recognize and distinguish you...'identity' is how you recognize and distinguish yourself. My hair is something identifiable about me, but it is not who I am. It is not a reflection of my talent, my intellect, or my character...it's literally just hair.

"You cannot confuse 'identifiable' with 'identity'. 'Identifiable' is how others recognize and distinguish you…'identity' is how you recognize and distinguish yourself."

There is nothing wrong with having a brand or a niche or a thing that you're known for. By all means, go out and make a name for yourself, earn that title, or rock that look—just know that those things are a part of you, not the whole you. So whether it's a job, a title, or a look, I encourage you to stay focused on what matters, don't take yourself (or "your brand") too seriously, and when an opportunity to mix things up arises, take the plunge...or the cut. ;)

12 inches gone! Shout-out to Christina at The Red Door for encouraging me to take the leap and doing the damn thing on this head.

History in the Making

"Take a stand for what's right. Raise a ruckus and make a change. You may not always be popular, but you'll be part of something larger and bigger and greater than yourself. Besides, making history is extremely cool."

— Samuel L. Jackson

I woke up this morning with what I can only describe as a "Democracy Hangover"...

Yesterday the Alabama State Democratic Executive Committee held its much-anticipated meeting to create new diversity caucuses, remove its current "leadership", and elect a new Chair/Vice-Chair. If you're not familiar with what led to this monumental meeting, first read this earlier post for reference and context. And as dramatic as the lead-up to this moment has been, you could not have written what transpired just hours before the meeting occurred.

On Friday (at 5:00 PM no less) Montgomery Circuit Judge Greg Griffin granted an injunction filed by Nancy Worley et al. that would essentially cancel the meeting. But just as The Reformers were starting to lose hope, an appeal was filed and the circuit court ruling was stayed by the Alabama Supreme Court. The meeting was back on! And then if all of that weren't crazy enough, later Friday evening Nancy accidentally butt-dialed someone from The Reformers and the 45+ minute conversation between Worley and Joe Reed (the Minority Caucus Leader) was live-streamed on Facebook...and let's just say it was not favorable to their cause. (They even did a rough transcription of the call, because it's so unbelievable, you have to hear it AND read it for yourself—bless you Cara McClure!)

So after this roller coaster of a Friday, I showed up at the Convention Center in Montgomery on Saturday morning (after hyping myself up with lots of caffeine and Hamilton) honestly not quite sure what to expect. I of course was feeling hopeful, but I couldn't help but hold just a tad bit of cynicism (and a whole lot of anxiety) in my heart. After all, the previous SDEC meetings I had attended had all been next-level shit-shows. But those negative thoughts were immediately dashed as soon as I entered the Youth Caucus room—it was FILLED with young people (#demkids). And not just young people, but diverse and impressive and from all over the state. The energy in the room was electric, and I was genuinely overcome with emotion as I sat listening to them one-by-one give their 30-second pitches as to why they wanted to be elected as at-large Youth Caucus members. Unfortunately, we couldn't elect them all, but we were able to add 48 superb new Youth members—39 of which were African American—as well as electing members to the newly-created Native American, Hispanic, Asian/Pacific Islander, and LGBTQ+ Caucuses. THIS is what the Alabama Democratic Party is supposed to look like and represent!

As soon as the caucuses were in place, we gathered downstairs in the main hall for the commencement of the meeting of the full SDEC body. Once a quorum had been established (108 members who were elected prior to this day), it was showtime. It was noted that neither Worley nor Kelly nor Reed were present, although Nancy may still be at home trying to figure out how cell phones work. (#blessherheart) The meeting began with a unanimous vote to adopt the minutes from the October 5th (DNC-approved, Worley non-approved) meeting, as well fill a handful of vacant House District seats. Then—one by one—each caucus presented its slate of new at-large members which were all accepted unanimously and greeted with a standing ovation as they received their credentials and joined the rest of us on the voting floor. It was truly a sight to behold.

Then came the moment we had all been waiting for...the vote to remove Nancy Worley as Chair and Randy Kelly as Vice-Chair. Initially, the motion to remove them was put to a voice vote, but at the wise suggestion of Senator Vivian Figures and the majority vote of the body, it was moved to a roll-call vote. Now, with now 172 voting members present, this becomes a looong and tedious process. But I will say this—getting to verbally shout-out “YES!” in favor of removing Nancy Worley as Chair was one of the most satisfying things I have ever done in my life. And after a unanimous vote (172-0!), it was done: "Nancy Worley and Randy Kelly have been removed as Chair and Vice-Chair of the Alabama Democratic Party." And the crowd ERUPTED. We had done it...we had actually done it.

https://twitter.com/_LifeOfLisa_/status/1190684767517327360?s=20

Now came the next part...electing a new Chair and Vice-Chair. The nominees who had declared their candidacy prior to the meeting were Dr. Will Boyd, Rep. Chris England, and Tabitha Isner. Let me preface this by being forthright and stating my biases regarding this topic—I was #TeamTabitha all the way. That's not to say I was against any other candidate. Both Dr. Boyd and Rep. England have done countless things to better the ADP and represent it and its values well. But in my personal opinion, Tabitha impressed me not only with her incredible run for Congress in 2018, but also with her six months of hard work to help unite our party, recruit at-large members, and make this November 2nd meeting happen. She had earned my vote. But honestly, the beauty of this election was that there was no bad choice.

After some compelling speeches from all three candidates and a roll call vote, Rep. Chris England was declared the Chair of the Alabama Democratic Party (England-104; Isner-63; Boyd-4). This in itself was a historic moment—Rep. England was the first African American elected as Chair of the ADP. After a well-deserved standing ovation, Rep. England took his place to head the remainder of the meeting. The next item on the agenda was the election of the Vice-Chair. (FYI: Per the ADP bylaws, the Vice-Chair must be the opposite gender of the Chair...so in this case, since the newly elected Chair was male, the Vice-Chair would have to be female) There were two women who had declared their candidacy for Vice-Chair prior to the meeting—former Rep. Patricia Todd and Dr. Adia Winfrey—and Tabitha Isner was nominated from the floor. Isner declined the nomination, because (in her words): "I would like for the Chair to have the Vice [Chair] that he wants, so I respectfully decline."

#sdec #alpolitics #alpol 😳😳😳 pic.twitter.com/egYu7UB7JZ

— Lisa Handback (@lisahandback) November 2, 2019

After another roll call vote, Patricia Todd garnered 113 of the 141 votes cast, thereby becoming the new Vice Chair. Patricia Todd, having already made history back in 2006 when she became the first openly gay representative in Alabama, had now added her name in a big way to this historic moment. After the election of Caucus Chairs, a few more motions were brought to the floor—most notably a motion to end the lawsuit filed when Worley was Chair and prohibit any more money from being spent on the attorneys in that case, as well as a motion to add a Disability Caucus as soon as possible but no later than 2022—both of which passed unanimously. Finally after a total of 8.5 hours, the meeting was closed out with some encouraging words from Senator Doug Jones (who had been present all day, as well as DNC representative, Harold Ickes).

It has been a trying 15 months to say the very least. I have personally felt beaten down, discouraged, mortified, furious, frustrated, and a myriad of other unpleasant emotions over these past few months. But this time...this moment...it felt different. It was different. We had proven that not only a quorum of the body wanted change...wanted a better Democratic Party...but we showed up and we demanded that change...we were that change. We let it be known loud and clear and unanimously that we wanted a more diverse and inclusive and forward-thinking Democratic Party. We rallied...we showed up...and we voted. I know there are a few more battles ahead of us, as Nancy has already stated to AL.com that she has not conceded in her role as Chair. But I also know this...

After being surrounded all day by Democrats of all ages, races, backgrounds, and walks of life who are passionate about putting in the work to rebuild this party, what we have done these past 15 months, what we did this weekend, and what we will do in the weeks and months ahead fighting this battle will all be worth it. It won't be easy, and it won't be pretty...but then again when has making history ever been?

Point of (dis)Order

"A house divided against itself cannot stand."

— Abraham Lincoln

Whew. Where to begin? I suppose at the beginning...

After diving head-first into local politics almost 3 years ago, I decided at the beginning of 2018 I was going to take an even bigger step in "being the change I wish to see" by running to represent House District 10 on the Alabama State Democratic Executive Committee. I had been warned by previous/current SDEC members that it was quite the cluster, but I thought, "What better reason to get involved and help the Party progress!?" After the election of Senator Doug Jones, my level of hope for Democratic politics in Alabama was at an all-time high with dreams of turning this crimson red state into a light shade of purple. That hope was shaken back in August of 2018...and those dreams were nearly dashed 2 days ago.

I won't dive into the details of what led to the October 12th meeting, but some fellow young SDEC members and I wrote an open letter on the importance of this meeting and urged all SDEC members to attend this past Saturday. Upon arrival, it was very clear that this meeting would not be going smoothly—the tension in the air was thick and the emotions were already running high. Roll call was done, which showed that 161 members were in attendance (which notably included House Minority Leader, Rep. Anthony Daniels, Rep. Laura Hall, Rep. Chris England, and Sen. Vivian Figures). The meeting (which started 30+ minutes late) kicked off with some bizarre ramblings from Chair Worley (Shriners concession stand breakfast hot dog, anyone?), a request for the paper signs to be put down (because it was a "potential safety risk"?), and (one of the few positive notes of the day) a recognition of the historic elections that recently occurred in Montgomery and Talladega. But—as you can imagine—the positivity was very short-lived.

Several SDEC members began calling for a Point of Order, as well as a Point of Inquiry—requesting her to state which set of bylaws this meeting would be operated under (the old, non-DNC approved bylaws or the DNC approved bylaws which were voted on by the SDEC on October 5th and accepted)—all of which Chair Worley blatantly ignored. After many attempts to ignore and skirt around the Point of Inquiry, Chair Worley finally stated that she did not acknowledge the (DNC-approved and legally called) meeting held on October 5th as legitimate and that the current meeting could be operated under both sets of bylaws. This outrageous statement unsurprisingly sent the room into an uproar and was met with a motion to immediately adjourn. The roll call vote on the motion to adjourn: 73-YES; 88-NO. The chaos would continue...

Again several Points of Order were called—one specifically asking how much of the Party's money has been spent in legal fees defending the Chair and Vice-Chair against the many recent challenges (which, FYI: ~$200,000)—and again, Chair Worley flagrantly steamrolled them. That is until Vice-Chair Kelly called for a motion to postpone the minutes of the October 5th meeting indefinitely, a moment which aroused confusion and, frankly, laughter. Because as Rep. England eloquently pointed out, this motion would mean that the ADP "leadership" is in fact acknowledging AND validating the meeting that occurred on October 5th and the business that was conducted within it. From what I could discern from the debate that followed, that motion was (temporarily) tabled.

Another much-needed bright spot of the meeting was the announcement of numerous and amazing accomplishments of Alabama Young Dems this past year—although it was somehow not acknowledged by the Vice-Chair of Youth Affairs and had to be brought up as a motion to correct the record (shout-out to James Parker, Jr. - HD28). In hindsight, I believe it was this very moment that retained what little hope I had left and fueled me through the rest of the meeting (that and the two very large coffee drinks I consumed that morning). And it was desperately needed. Because what happened next was a level of shit-show I was not prepared for...

The DNC—oh, excuse me—TOM PEREZ sent a letter to Chair Worley on October 9th clearly stating that the bylaws voted on and passed on October 5th had been validated by the DNC Rules and Bylaws Committee and that those should be the bylaws under which all meetings going forward should be operated, as well as no vacancies should be filled until the November 2nd meeting. As you can imagine, Chair Worley gave two giant middle fingers to those instructions and not only conducted business under her bylaws but also moved forward with filling several vacancies. More Points of Order and motions to adjourn were simply ignored. But the ultimate "F U" moment came when Matthew Brown - HD21 made a motion to have DNC representative, Harold Ickes, speak to the Committee, and Chair Worley stated that "there would have to be a unanimous vote for a non-member to speak", and wouldn't you know it...there were a few objections from the Committee, so Mr. Ickes was not allowed to speak. I repeat—A MEMBER OF THE DNC WAS NOT ACKNOWLEDGED OR ALLOWED TO ADDRESS THE COMMITTEE.

During the umpteenth roll call vote—this time on whether to substitute the bylaws (which ones, I'm still not even sure)—I took this opportunity to meditate, eat some chips, and watch the kickoff of the Alabama v. TAMU game. At this point, the mental break was honestly welcomed and very much needed. Once the bylaw substitution vote passed (I believe substituting the non-DNC approved bylaws for the DNC approved bylaws), Vice-Chair Kelly motioned for the (previously voted on and DNC approved on October 5th) November 2nd meeting to be canceled and instead held on November 16th...maybe?? But again, this would be acknowledging and validating the October 5th meeting and all of the business discussed and voted on as a result—which was in complete contradiction of the claims of illegitimacy made by Chair Worley and Vice-Chair Kelly himself. What is real...what is valid...what is legitimate...what the hell is happening??

At this point, the room, completely consumed by animosity and division, erupted into total anarchy—screaming, name-calling, and more calls for Points of Order and motions that (shockingly) were ignored. I honestly couldn't tell you what was said by Chair Worley in the last two minutes of that meeting due to the pure chaos that had ensued, except the word "ADJOURNED" echoed loud and clear over the speaker. And that was it. We were dismissed. Four and a half hours of pure pandemonium, and all I was left with was embarrassment, disappointment, confusion, and an overwhelming amount of sadness.

I have been a Democrat all my life—even before I knew what it was or what it meant. I want to uplift, empower, and support those of marginalized communities and those who also want to do all they can for the betterment of the collective. I want elections like that of Senator Doug Jones, Mayor-elect Steven Reed, and Mayor-elect Timothy Ragland to be the norm, not an anomaly. I want to leave my community, my state Party, my world better than I found it. As a young(ish) person, I constantly hear, "Yay a young person! Where are the rest of you? Why doesn't your generation care about what's going on?!" And on the surface, that seems like a fair question. However, after witnessing firsthand the atrocity that was the October 12th meeting, how could anyone in their right mind—much less the youth—want to involve themselves in such ridiculousness? Moreover, we (Millennials and Gen Z) are trying to finish school and establish careers and start families and pay bills and be activists whilst a majority of us are being crippled by student loan debt paired with low-paying jobs, and quite frankly we do not have the time nor the patience to engage in this kind of bullshit. But even in those moments when some of us attempt to pull up a chair and join the conversation, we are then swiftly patted on the head and told to go sit at the kiddie table to wait our turn.

I don't know what the future holds for the SDEC or the Alabama Democratic Party as a whole—only time (and the DNC) can tell us that. But I know this much...this state is full of hardworking, smart, talented, dedicated, and all-around badass progressive young people who want to move the Democratic Party and the state of Alabama forward. Our futures and those of our children are most at stake. So my suggestion to those who, too, want these things would be to drop your decades-old grudges, step aside, and allow space for people of our generation to make the significant contributions that we know we have the potential to make. Otherwise, you can fully expect my fellow young rabble-rousers and me to build our own damn table...and you can't sit with us.

The Lizzo Effect

"If I'm shinin', everybody gonna shine // I was born like this, don't even gotta try // I'm like chardonnay, get better over time // Heard you say I'm not the baddest, bitch, you lied..."

— Lizzo

I love to dance—I always have. I'm not talking about "So You Think You Can Dance"-formally-trained dancing (although I did take one "acrobatic jazz" class when I was eight years old where I gave an epic recital performance dressed in all the neon-colored polyester and set to the tune of "Joy to the World"). <insert hair flip> I'm talking about out on a dance floor with my best girlfriends...in the aisles of the grocery store...all up in my car (safely ((ish)), of course)...I just love. to. dance.

And a few months ago (after falling down yet another rabbit hole of dance videos on YouTube), I was feeling inspired to research adult hip-hop classes in the area. Now mind you I am certainly not the greatest of dancers, but ya girl has some rhythm and was known to drop down and get her eagle on from time to time back in the day. (You're welcome for the visual) There was nothing I could find at the time that was what I was looking for, so I just went back to twirling with my vacuum in the privacy of my living room a la Mrs. Doubtfire.

Fast forward to a week ago when—lo and behold—I received an email from a local dance studio advertising their new adult hip hop class! And not only that, it is reasonably priced, happening on a day/time of the week that I can easily attend, and literally located across the street from my neighborhood. It's as if the dance gods were all hitting the Woah whilst smiling upon me in unison.

But then I immediately felt that switch flip. You know the one—insecurity, apprehension, terror. I found myself looking down and taking inventory of my body: I'm not in the greatest of shape. Parts of me move and jiggle that didn't use to before. That knee injury from twelve years ago is starting to take its toll. What if others in the class stare at or judge me? What if I look ridiculous? What if I'm *gasp* the "big girl" among a gaggle of J-Lo backup dancers?!

I felt myself spiraling into this black hole of self-doubt and started to just delete the email from my inbox and my brain. But as luck (or maybe those dance gods I mentioned earlier) would have it, just as I was clicking through the email, Lizzo's Good As Hell came up on my playlist. I suddenly found myself singing along and doing some serious chair-dancing and hair-tossing. The switch had been flipped off...just like that. And it was in that moment I realized that I was about to allow my fears and insecurities to prevent me from doing something I love.

"We cannot allow anything or anyone to steal our joy—especially ourselves."

Am I currently in my "physical prime"? No. But I am still healthy and capable of movement. Am I carrying around more weight than I ever have? Yes. But my body is deserving of love no matter how many imperfections or the number on a scale. I know these things...and I knew these things when I first opened that email. And yet I—like so much of our society—have been conditioned to believe not only that the weight/size of our bodies matters, but also that they must reach a certain standard to be deemed "acceptable". As if there's a specific criterion we must meet in order to wear certain clothing, move on a dance floor, or just exist in the world.

And the craziest part for me is that if someone else were to talk to me that way—tell me I'm too big or too old or too inexperienced—I would be 100% that bitch and tell them all the way the hell off. So why would I allow myself to speak about myself in that way? Life is too short and the world is, at times, too ugly to not enjoy every pleasure it can bring. We cannot allow anything or anyone to steal our joy—especially ourselves.

"The hardest type of love is and will always be self-love—but it's also the best kind of love."

We are all deserving of love and the opportunity to pursue our passions. Full stop. Should being healthy and taking care of our bodies be a priority? Of course. But instead of taking physical inventory of myself—whether it be my pants size or that new roll that seemingly appeared overnight—at the end of the day, I'm going to take inventory of the things that actually matter: was I kind to someone today...did I accomplish a goal...am I allowing myself enough self-care mentally, physically, emotionally...did I learn something new...did I do something today that brought myself or someone else joy.

The hardest type of love is and will always be self-love—but it's also the best kind of love. We can speak about it, write about it, and even sing about it til we're blue in the face, but until we practice it—consistently—every day, we won't ever fully achieve it. That is why at the end of each day I am challenging myself to start writing down 3-5 things that I accomplished, that I'm grateful for, and/or that I love about myself in an attempt to shift my perspective. And when those icky thoughts start to creep in, I will reject those words as if they were being spoken by my greatest of haters. And I challenge you to do the same—because we are smart and kind and strong and hard-working and funny and loving and giving and so many wonderful things that actually matter.

And if you're wondering if I signed up for that hip hop class or not...the answer is not only did I sign up for it, but I also pre-registered and committed to taking the entire multi-week session. I'm still nervous and have some insecurities to work through, but I'm excited to step out of my comfort zone and do something that brings me joy. I owe myself that—nay—I deserve that. Because in the words of our Lord and Savior Lizzo: "I don't need a crown to know that I'm a queen." And neither do you.

My Take on the Third Dem Debate

GRAPHIC COURTESY OF FIVETHIRTYEIGHT.COM

Whew. After a semi-exhausting first two rounds (and four total nights) of debates, I was excited to take in this pared down round of front-runners, where they would have more of an opportunity to get down to the "nitty gritty" of some of the issues, as well as address other issues that had been neglected in previous debates.

Here are my humble views on how Round 3 went down:

Round 3:

Sen. Bernie Sanders — Nothing new to report here, really. If you err on the side of optimism, he was consistent. If you don't, he was predictable. Although regardless of where you stand on the issue of Medicare For All, Sen. Klobuchar's quip, "While Bernie wrote the bill, I read the bill," paired with Mayor Pete's comment, "The problem, Sen. Sanders, with that damn bill that you wrote and that Sen. Warren backs is that it doesn't trust the American people," definitely landed hard and helped make a case for those with a more moderate/centrist position regarding healthcare.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren — Per usual, I felt she was solid in the beginning, but then seemed to almost disappear for most of debate. Her opening and closing statements were the strongest and most balanced, and she certainly connected with me (and I'm sure many other Millennials) when she spoke on the student debt crisis and the high costs of childcare.

Mayor Pete Buttigieg — Like Sen. Warren, I felt as though he faded into the background for a large chunk of the debate, but when he did speak, he delivered some solid talking points and made the most of his time. His highlights to me were when he called for his fellow candidates to stop using the platform to score political points (we're all looking at you, Castro) and his closing statement, which was heartfelt and resonated with anyone who has a soul.

Beto O'Rourke — Ok, so...I still not planning to catch a ride on the "Beto Bandwagon" anytime soon, but I would be lying if I said he didn't have a good night. After the tragic mass shooting occurred in his hometown of El Paso a few weeks ago, he came out the clear winner on the topic of gun control with a bold and fiery exclamation, "Hell, yes, we're going to take your AR-15, your AK-47!" paired with the accolades he received from some of his fellow candidates on his stance and outspokenness on the topic. And I, too, give him kudos for his advocacy on this incredibly important issue. (But if you think I've forgotten about the Round 1 Debate, you would be incorrecto)

Sen. Amy Klobuchar — Like Beto, I found her performance this round to be a big improvement upon the earlier rounds. She (both literally and figuratively) read Bernie for filth regarding his Medicare For All bill, as well as put up a strong defense of her record when it was called into question. And her personal story regarding her work to enact the 48-hour maternity hospital stay rule in Minnesota really resonated with me. But also like Beto, I am still not "All About Amy" just yet.

Sen. Kamala Harris — She definitely had a different strategy going into this round, which was clearly to focus all of her critiques on the current administration as opposed to her Dem opponents. And with several comments made throughout the debate about "infighting", this appeared to be a good move on her part. (But did anyone else grab some popcorn and pray for mercy on Ol' Joe when the topic of race came up again?) She seemed very relaxed this round, too, even landing some pretty funny jokes with her opening statement and her comparison of 45 and the Wizard of Oz (“You know, when you pull back the curtain, it’s a really small dude.”) Oh, and her closing statement somehow kicked up some dust in my living room... #imnotcryingyourecrying

Julián Castro — BRUH. I had actually begun to like him more and more, round by round, but his performance this time was ROUGH. His blatant and overzealous attack on Biden was cringe-worthy, and it only benefited Joe by making him appear more sympathetic. (I mean, come on, Julián, he's somebody's grandpa!) I personally think he's vying for a VP spot, so maybe this was part of his plan?? (Because let's be real...I would pay a pretty penny to see him go in on Pence like that on a debate stage)

Andrew Yang — Whew. Ok, so...like Castro, I too had started to become a fan of Yang's the more I heard from him. I felt he brought an interesting perspective and had some great policy ideas. BUT...between his icky Asian stereotype "joke" and his gimmicky promotion of his Freedom Dividend plan, he certainly didn't do himself any favors. I honestly don't think I could sum up his performance any better than Mike Drucker did on Twitter, so I'm just going to leave this right here.

Sen. Cory Booker — I felt this was another solid night from Sen. Booker. His multiple references of his experiences in his community and neighborhood felt sincere and humble. And Sen. Harris wasn't the only one who came with jokes—I'm still giggling over his wisecrack about Trudeau's "menacing" hair. Being the first to chastise Castro for his attack on Biden while still holding Joe accountable for the things Castro was calling him out for definitely scored him some points. (But whether those points will reflect in the polls remains to be seen)

VP Joe Biden — I've got to be honest...he performed well this round. Aside from his continued efforts to cherry-pick his involvement with the Obama administration, the strong defense of his attacks paired with the support he received from his fellow centrists (and again, the mercy showed to him by Kamala regarding race) allowed him to not only garner the most talk time but also come out as one of the top performers.

Final Thoughts:

Overall, I enjoyed this debate. I would personally like it to be pared down even more, but I was still able to get a better feel for these candidates and see aspects of them I hadn't yet before.

One of my biggest "CONS" was the lack of diversity in which candidates were asked questions. Although I know there's no way to ensure that they all get exactly equal talk time, I feel that much more could be done by the moderators to see to it that there's a more level playing field. (After all, we are Democrats, right?) Another big "CON" for me: again, this debate was dominated by the topic of healthcare. I mean, don't get me wrong...healthcare is obviously one of the most important issues America is facing today, but sweet Democratic baby Jesus, there have been so many critical issues that have yet to have much (if any) discussion on the debate stage. For example: the economy, equal pay, abortion rights, maternal health, family leave, domestic violence, mental health, education, childcare, student loan debt crisis, criminal justice reform, marijuana legalization, LGBTQ+, sexual harassment, etc. etc. etc… "PRO"(ish): Was it just me, or did everyone suddenly shift from giving Obama hell last round to kissing his as...err...feet this round? (My guess is Michelle made a couple of phone calls after that last debate to check some people, remind them of who the hell they are, and gave them some "notes" for this round) Regardless, I'm glad everyone's back on #TeamObama.

Thanks again for reading my thoughts on this third round of debates. What were your takes on my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!

If you'd like to read my takes on the previous debates, you can do so here:

Dem Debate Round 1

Dem Debate Round 2

My Take on the Second Dem Debate

GRAPHIC COURTESY OF FIVETHIRTYEIGHT.COM

Alright...here we are again. ROUND 2. I felt like the first round of debates was more of a warm-up with the candidates in feeling out the debate stage, their opponents, and what the viewers would respond to most. My hope for the second round (aside from less candidates, which clearly didn't happen) was that some of the candidates would come out strong on their stances and make attempts to separate themselves from the pack—some did, some faded into the background, and some are possibly still on the debate stage in search of their political careers.

So here it is—my takeaway from Round 2:

Round 2, Night 1:

Sen. Bernie Sanders — He came dressed in his best pair of sassy pants, and I was here 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 it 👏🏻 . He had some great zingers + sound bites, and he definitely held tight to the left with his progressive messaging.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren — I felt she was extremely strong throughout the night on all topics this round, and her Mortal Kombat ending of Delaney was more than epic. She’s my declared winner of the night. #FinishHim

Mayor Pete Buttigieg — I thought he was solid and did an excellent job leveraging his age as a strength, when most would perceive it as a weakness. And his lines about structural democratic reform and “Repubs will call us crazy socialists no matter what, so let’s just stand up for the right policies” were definitely shining moments for him.

Beto O'Rourke — Well, he was better than the last round, but that’s not saying too much. (¿Cómo se dice…"meh"?)

Sen. Amy Klobuchar — I found her to be stronger and more confident this round as well. She has some good policy ideas, but I just don’t think she’s a candidate people can get really excited about (including myself).

John Hickenlooper — I still stand by my statement that he should be disqualified for his name alone.

Rep. Tim Ryan — In the words of our Lord Ariana Grande: #thankunext

John Delaney — R.I.P. Swole Daddy

Marianne Williamson — I'm shook just typing this, but she did well. Like, shockingly well…to the point where I thought momentarily I might be the crazy one…that is until her closing statement. #CareBearStare

Gov. Steve Bullock — He won’t win the nomination, but he could always try for a career in beauty pageants and/or soap operas.

BONUS: Jake Tapper was definitely "that friend" in middle school who would secretly 3-way call you to try and get you to talk shit about your other friend on the line.

Round 2, Night 2:

Sen. Kamala Harris — She was strong and polished, but I felt like she didn’t bring the same level of intensity this round as she did the first (maybe it was muted by the others who raised theirs?). Also, as much of a fan as I am not of Gabbard, her call-out of Harris’ record stung. Still think she’s a strong contender regardless.

Rep. Tulsi Gabbard — Did y’all know she was deployed to Iraq?! Ok, in all seriousness, I sincerely appreciate her service to our country…and I would also appreciate it if she continued that service in Congress.

Gov. Jay Inslee — He did just as expected and harped mostly on the climate crisis. And there IS a climate crisis…but the world is also figuratively on fire with so many other issues that we have to address. You can’t come off as a single-issue candidate and expect to go far. Another #thankunext

Sen. Michael Bennet — Sweet, sweet Michael Bennet. I know you are more than your abnormally tiny mouth and Muppet voice, but it is incredibly distracting from anything you’re saying. I truly cannot.

Mayor Bill de Blasio — From attempting to moderate the debate himself to trying to pass the buck on the Eric Garner issue, he sucked👏🏻it👏🏻up👏🏻. More like de BLAHsio…de BlasiNO…de BlasiGO…DUH Blasio…(thanks folks, I’ll be here all night) 🙋🏻‍♀️

Julián Castro — I felt he had a great night, and I am becoming more and more a fan of his the more I hear from him. I'm hoping he's able to qualify for the September debates.

Andrew Yang — Ok, so he has no chance at winning (obviously), BUT…the man has some great ideas AND is hilarious. I’m glad someone like him is in the mix to bring a different perspective to some of these big issues. I am very much here for the #yanggang.

Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand — Girlfriend was snatching wigs AND sponsors! (#clorox) Straight out the gate she came off much stronger and more fierce than last round. She’s not in my top tier currently, but I feel like last night she showed a different side of herself and gave her campaign a much-needed boost. Not sure if it will reflect in the polls, but BRAVA!

Sen. Cory Booker — CLEAR WINNER. Even though he is known for being a great speaker, I was still surprised by how well he performed: talked policy, went on the offense and called others out when necessary, called for unity among the candidates when things started getting messy, and—like Gillibrand—probably snagged himself a new sponsor (#koolaid) along with one of the best lines/sickest burns of the whole round.

VP Joe Biden — Has anyone checked on Uncle Joe since last night’s ass whoopin’? Sweet baby Democratic Jesus. I’m interested to find out if the other nine candidates made a pact prior to the debate to go IN on him collectively. It was hard to watch at times. I felt like he defended himself the best he could given the circumstances (and definitely got the most screen time because of it), but some of the blows landed REAL hard and I truly think will hurt him going forward. And he certainly didn’t do himself any favors with his greeting of Harris pre-debate or his seemingly senile closing statement. Siiiiigh #malarkey

BONUS: All in all, it was a very spirited debate, but I HATE the whole first hour was almost exclusively focused on healthcare with lots of other potential topics being left out. Looking forward to the next round being pared down in candidates and amped up in varied issues. Oh, and Jake “Regina George” Tapper still sucks.

Thanks for reading my humble thoughts on this second round of debates. I'm interested to see who will make the cut and qualify for the next round, and I'm excited to have the field more narrowed down. Did you agree with my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!

If you'd like to read my take on the previous debate, you can do so here:

Dem Debate Round 1

My Take on the First Dem Debate

Graphic courtesy of FiveThirtyEight.com

Like millions around the country, I found myself glued to my TV to take in what was sure to be an interesting night (err...nightS) of debate between the twenty qualified Democratic candidates all vying to become the 46th President of the United States.

And also like the millions watching, I had some opinions about it. There was a lot to take in (and by that I mean entirely too many damn candidates), so in the interest of time and attention span, here is my abbreviated takeaway from Round 1:

Round 1, Night 1:

Julián Castro — He was my clear winner for night one. He was prepared, but genuine…showed as experienced, but not super-establishment…asserted himself without being obnoxious…and pushed the other candidates on some of the issues, especially immigration.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren — I felt like she started strong and finished strong, but there was a serious lagging in the middle. Being the first one out of the gate hitting Medicare For All definitely scored her some solid points.

Sen. Cory Booker — He definitely flexed his strength as an orator and had some solid policy points, but his speaking on the opioid crisis paired with his baggage with Big Pharma didn’t sit well with me.

Mayor Bill de Blasio — The only shining moment for me was when he pointed out the misplaced blame of America’s problems on immigrants instead of big corporations and the 1%. Of which I concur.

John Delaney — #swoledaddy

Gov. Jay Inslee — I'm sorry...who??

Sen. Amy Klobuchar — I truly, truly hate to say this about a fellow woman, but…I found her to be bland and borderline obnoxious. I did feel she got one or two good talking points in, and her call-out of Inslee on the topic of women's rights was equal parts glorious and hilarious!

Rep. Tulsi Gabbard — I have complete and utter appreciation for all service men & women and vets, but I think she misused what little time she had constantly talking about her service instead of actual policy. Also, that reminder of her early non-support of LGBTQ+ issues definitely hurt her. But her call-out of Ryan on the Taliban/Al-Qaeda comment made me literally LOL.

Beto O'Rourke — Pandering. Word Salad. Cringey. Or in Beto’s words: "No bueno."

Rep. Tim Ryan — #boyBYE

Round 1, Night 2:

Sen. Kamala Harris — WINNER by a mile. She was strong and measured while making some exccellent policy points. She also took great control over the race conversation and in the process #AryaStark’ed the hell out of Uncle Joe.

Mayor Pete Buttigieg — He did as well as I had expected. He, too, made some good policy points, and his line: “We’ll have no idea who he’s pissed off more by that point” was a great LOL moment and a personal highlight of the night. And although I feel that he handled the question regarding the recent South Bend police incident fairly well, it still leaves the question of, “Why wasn’t/hasn’t more been done to prevent this?” unanswered and will potentially hurt his run in the end.

Sen. Bernie Sanders — I’ve never been a big fan (don't @ me, Bernie Bros), but I’m also not a hater. I felt he was predictable and used his time to drive home his main talking points. Not a negative necessarily, just…predictable.

Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand — She did well, but she was immensely overshadowed by Harris. And although I appreciate her attempt to address women’s issues, it was so rushed and talked over by some of the other candidates that it didn’t land as strongly as it could have.

Andrew Yang — I love a good wildcard, and I’m seriously considering donating to his campaign just to hear more from him.

Sen. Michael Bennet — The only thing worth remembering is his comment about not being able to get anything done in Congress til Cocaine Mitch is gone. Also #DitchMitch.

John Hickenlooper — Should be disqualified by name alone.

VP Joe Biden — #AryaStark'ed

Marianne Williamson — #CareBearStare #WITAF

Rep. Eric Swalwell — When you actually manage to out-cringe Beto. He was definitely tonight's #boyBYE.

Thanks for reading my humble thoughts on this first round of debates. I for one am certainly looking forward to how things develop over the coming months and these future debates. Did you agree with my rundown? What did you think were the biggest hits and misses of this round? I would love to hear your thoughts!

Do You Even Ally, Bro?

“The job of a good ally is not to save anybody but rather to help create the conditions under which people can assert and grow their own power.”

— Rinku Sen

We just finished celebrating Pride Month—and a beautiful Pride Week here in Huntsville, AL—but these past few days I have found myself constantly thinking about something I saw recently in regards to being an "ally".

Ally is defined by Webster as "one that is associated with another as a helper," which I feel is essentially what most people think of when using the term. And although I consider myself to be an ally of any/all marginalized groups, this video I came across titled "5 Tips For Being An Ally" by Franchesca Ramsey really opened my eyes and mind to certain aspects of allyship I was overlooking. She perfectly explains "privilege" (what it is and what it isn't), which I have personally done a lot of work on the past few years—fully understanding my own privileges and how that affects my experiences, relationships, and the world around me (and I still have work to do).

But the most crucial piece of the puzzle that I was missing—and I feel many others are missing—is shifting the focus from the noun form to the verbform. By this I mean that it is not enough to call yourself an ally or to not hold bigoted/racist/homophobic/xenophobic/misogynistic ideals, but you—WE—must actively (and continually) fight against these ideals and support those in the marginalized communities who are affected. Simply put, it is more important to DO than to BE.

We need men to fight against and call out misogyny when they see it...we need straight/cis people supporting LGBTQ+ organizations and educating the people around them on issues important to their communities...we need white people to protest when unarmed black men are being gunned down and support people of color who run for leadership positions.

Wearing statement tees, reposting a supportive article, or attending a rally or march is good and important, but your activism and allyship cannot just be performative and superficial. You have to listen to people in these marginalized communities, learn what their issues are, figure out how you can leverage your own privilege to help elevate (but not drown out) their message, and then continue to stay engaged. I recognize that this isn’t a completely original thought or a subject that hasn’t been broached before, but it’s important that we continue to have these conversations and remind ourselves that we can always learn and grow in our activism. As a person of privilege, the conversations can be uncomfortable and hard at times, but they’re vital and necessary. We need to learn how to be more comfortable in the uncomfortable because that is where change truly happens.

It's Okay Not to Be Okay

"If we start being honest about our pain, our anger, and our shortcomings instead of pretending they don’t exist, then maybe we’ll leave the world a better place than we found it."

— Russell Wilson

Nervous. Anxious. Unsure. Scared. Embarrassed.

The waiting room had the sounds and smells like that of a spa, but I was anything but relaxed. In the few minutes I sat waiting, I contemplated jumping up and running out of there as fast as I could so many times.

"Do I really need to be here? Is this truly necessary? I mean, no one's making me be here, so I should just go."

At that moment, a lovely woman with the warmest expression opened the door and gently called my name. I somehow managed to gather myself up and cross the hall into her office and onto the couch.

You see, I had been contemplating therapy for years but had always come to the conclusion that all-in-all, I was okay. In my mind, there was no super-traumatic experience...no devastating loss...no abuse...which I interpreted as "okay." It almost felt silly to me the idea of seeing a therapist—not because I haven't had my fair share of sadness and loss (I have) or that I don't think mental health is incredibly important (I do), but because I never saw my problems or issues or feelings as "that bad." I essentially had what I like to call the "Kourtney Kardashian mentality"—as in when it comes to the rest of the world's problems, mine sort of pale in comparison.

But after years of encouragement from one of my best friends and some recent "ah-ha" moments, I decided to finally take the leap, and here I was.

I had no idea what to expect. We started out making small talk—standard get-to-know-you chitchat and comments about the weather. Then it started to get real: she asked me about my goals and what I wanted to achieve through our time together, and I started to feel the panic set in.

I had filled out a form previous to our meeting that asked that question, and I had written down some fairly vague answers: "Better my relationships" ... "Process my feelings in a healthier way"...etc. But I hadn't really considered why I was going or what I was wanting to get out of it in the end. Again, I thought I was "okay" and my life was "okay" and everything was pretty much "okay," but then I opened my mouth to answer, and it happened...word vomit. I honestly couldn't even tell you what I said if I wanted to. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience, spewing all of these feelings and tears onto this poor woman. It was like a switch had been flipped inside of me, and I couldn't turn it off.

After rambling on for what seemed like hours, she kindly informed me that our time was up, but that she would like to see me again...once a week for the next few months. I stood there half-stunned, half-confused. I smiled and nodded as she discussed available dates, but in my head, I kept repeating, "But I'm okay...I'm okay...I'm okay...??"

I stood up, gave her a half-hearted "thank you", and walked out of the door to my car. I sat there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened when I suddenly felt this wave come over me—and I let out the most guttural, cathartic scream I have ever heard, much less produced, followed by uncontrollable sobbing. And that's when I knew...

I. was. not. o. kay.

So I went back, and week after week—slowly but surely—I could feel things shifting. And then, just a few weeks ago, I had a major breakthrough: it turns out the awful thoughts and feelings I had been experiencing most of my life that I had chalked up to as "normal" were in fact quite the opposite. Stress, work, politics, #life—albeit contributors—were actually not the cause of the moderate/severe progression of these thoughts and feelings in recent years.

Turns out I have severe anxiety.

Now, younger Lisa would have immediately thrown her defenses up, argued her case, and found every excuse to explain away the notion that there may be something "wrong" with her...that she wasn't "okay." But not now. In that moment, I felt this enormous weight lift, and I cried at its release—but these tears were different. These were tears of relief...relief in finally putting a name to the cause of the negative thoughts and feelings that I had accumulated and which had plagued me for so, so long. In a sense, it felt...freeing...

Because it's only when you can identify an issue—whether it be with your physical health, a relationship, or your mental health—that you can truly begin the process of healing it.

It has now been 120 days since I started my journey to better mental health, and I still have such a long way to go. It has been hard and, at times, downright painful. But my only regret thus far is that I didn't seek help sooner. I write this not only as a way to externally process my feelings or because it is #MentalHealthAwarenessMonth, but also as an encouragement to anyone out there to not suffer in silence. Your feelings and experiences are valid. Full stop.

It's okay not to be okay...but it's not okay to not live your life as fully, beautifully, and freely as you deserve. And I wish nothing less than that for myself...and for you.

IF YOU NEED HELP FINDING A MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL, THIS WEBSITE IS A GREAT RESOURCE AND HELPED ME FIND MY THERAPIST.

Just Say "Yes"

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”

— Dale Carnegie

Yesterday's MY BODY, MY CHOICE rally was brimming with so many emotions: anger, excitement, fear, courage, frustration, hope. So many amazing people of all genders, races, religions, ages, identities, backgrounds, cultures, and walks of life showed up at Butler Green to have their voices heard and to stand in solidarity with one another—friends and strangers alike—and it was truly a thing of beauty.I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to speak at this event. And although I still hold the same beliefs on this issue today that I have my whole life, 10 years ago...5 years ago...hell, 2 years ago, I would have never had the courage to speak publicly like this. (Fun fact: I would have failed my public speaking class in college if it hadn't been for A) it being a summer class; B) my professor's pity.) But when asked, I said "yes"...because saying "yes" has been what has gotten me to where I am today.Before 2017, I had zero political background, zero political experience, zero political education. I had no reason to believe that there was a place for me in this world or that I had anything to contribute to it. But I was lucky to have amazing people believe in me, and when opportunities presented themselves, I then had the audacity to believe in myself and say "yes."I say all this to tell you that not only are politics vital to all of us, but also there is a place for you, too, in this realm—there is a place for all of us. And there needs to be. It doesn't matter your age or experience or where you come from or your level of education—your perspective and ideas and voice are needed and necessary.And that was the message I wanted to convey yesterday—one that would encourage you to also step outside of your comfort zone and find ways to get involved. Because you have it in you and the opportunities are there...you just have to say "yes."

Below is the text of MY SPEECH, as well as links to local/statewide progressive political organizations to help you find your place and how you can get involved.

"Today we’re going to be hearing from some incredible advocates and activists, but I’m here to talk to you all about the political aspect. Now, I don’t want to stand up here and bore you with a bunch of numbers and data—that’s not my style—but I have to cite these very important ones: The female population in AL: 51%Do you know what the percentage is of female members of the AL House? 17%And the percentage of the female members of the AL Senate? 11% Just think about that for a second: 51% population, but only 17% and 11% representation. Advocacy for reproductive rights is incredibly vital—but so is supporting and electing candidates who will listen to those advocates and implement the policies that will support reproductive rights. This means supporting PROGRESSIVE candidates. And more specifically, supporting progressive FEMALE candidates. And even more specifically, supporting MARGINALIZED female progressive candidates. We saw a huge rise nationwide in progressives, women, women of color, and LGBTQ+ persons running for office last year. And here in Alabama, we, too, saw a rise in progressive, women, and women of color candidates running for office—locally and statewide. I was actually lucky enough to act as the campaign manager for the amazing Amy Wasyluka’s State Senate campaign. And the data shows that in a community when women are uplifted and empowered, the community as a whole thrives. And when progressive women are elected to office, they put forward and support legislation that supports and protects women. If I could encourage you to do anything today, it would be to not let the fear of not knowing about politics keep you from getting involved. I promise you—no one knew less about politics than I did 2½ years ago. You don’t have to come from a family of politicians or have a degree in Political Science to be involved in politics, you just have to be a citizen of the world who cares about what’s going on in your community and a desire to make a difference. And there are SO many ways to get involved: You could run for office, or encourage a friend to run. If running for office isn’t an option, then find a candidate you support and volunteer for them. Get involved with a local political or activist organization. Support organizations like Persistence PAC and Emerge AL who are doing work to financially support and train progressive female candidates here in Alabama. Call, write, or meet with your representatives to let them know where you stand on this issue and hold them accountable. Remember: they. work. for. you. Talk to your family, friends, neighbors, coworkers about the issues you care about—like reproductive rights—and use your personal relationships and experiences to help them understand why it’s so critical and why they should support candidates who also find it critical. Make sure that you and everyone you know is registered. to. vote. Whether big or small, we all have a place in politics and a role to play—there is a place for you—you just have to show up. In closing, I want to leave you with this: Regardless of how messy and frustrating and overwhelming as it can be, we no longer have the luxury to not care when it comes to politics. Elections have consequences, and the passing of this abortion ban is proof of that. So I urge you, when you go home today—go home with a sense of hope, but also with a sense of purpose...go home feeling inspired, but also empowered to be the change...go home angry, but also with a plan of action. But please, PLEASE...do not just go home. Because hope and inspiration and anger without action is just that. Today we have proven in the most spectacular way what a group of empowered women and allies with a sense of purpose and a plan of action can do in a very short amount of time. We can be the difference—and if we keep fighting the good fight—we most certainly will be. Thank you."

• ALABAMA HIGH SCHOOL DEMOCRATS

• ALABAMA COLLEGE DEMOCRATS

• ALABAMA YOUNG DEMOCRATS

• MADISON COUNTY DEMOCRATS

• MADISON COUNTY DEMOCRATIC WOMEN

• GREATER HUNTSVILLE DEMOCRATS

• INDIVISIBLE ALABAMA

• FAITH IN ACTION ALABAMA

• TENNESSEE VALLEY PROGRESSIVE ALLIANCE

• LEAGUE OF WOMEN VOTERS OF ALABAMA

• ALABAMA DEMOCRATIC CONFERENCE

• ALABAMA NEW SOUTH COALITION

• ORGANIZE ALABAMA

• PERSISTENCE PAC

• EMERGE ALABAMA

• RUN FOR SOMETHING

(Originally published May 20, 2019)